They are waiting on the shore
For the bark to take them home:
They will toil and grieve no more;
The hour for release [hath]1 come.

All their long life lies behind
Like a dimly blending dream:
There is nothing left to bind
To the realms that only seem.

They are waiting for the boat;
There is nothing left to do:
What was near [them]2 grows remote,
Happy silence falls like dew;
Now the shadowy bark is come,
And the weary may go home.

By still water they would rest
In the shadow of the tree:
After battle sleep is best,
After noise, tranquillity.